


Closer

by GoForGoals



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:24:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/pseuds/GoForGoals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is brave and steps into the lion's den. And the injured lion finds out that there is something only Erik can give him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Courage.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I had to write something about Marco's injury, coming out of this heartbreaking Durmeus-moment: https://31.media.tumblr.com/320575ec1191b2ce42b60512682cad3e/tumblr_nfg7w2lu6z1rhs8mlo5_r1_400.gif
> 
> I feel like the story is not appropriate to the drama at all, but ...I just had to. 
> 
> There are two more chapters left.

"Come in, the door is open", Marco shouted over to the hallway. He limped back to the couch, throwing himself onto it. "But Marcel", he added, "since when are you ringing the bell? Did you forget your key?"

Marco had just looked through the intercom camera loosely a minute ago. When he saw a guy wearing a cap on the monitor, he opened the door, only taking sure that not a crowd of girls, ready to freak out, was standing outside.

"Hello, Marco", somebody answered and it definitely wasn’t Marcel’s voice. Marco jumped up from the sofa, as best as possible with an injured foot. "Fuck", he shouted startled, "what are you doing here?"

"I’m sorry", Erik mumbled cowed, "I didn’t want to scare you." He condemned the moment he couldn’t stand it anymore to sit at home, considering if Marco was okay. In fact, it was the worst idea ever to climb into his car and drive over to him.  
  
But there he was and he had to come out of this situation in some kind of way. “Eh, my mother baked a cake and I wanted to bring you some pieces of it.” Erik stood there with a plate in his hands, feeling like the biggest fool on earth.

"A cake", Marco echoed. "A cheese cake, to be precise", Erik added, his voice still trembling.  
  
There was an awkward silence between them and Erik wished that the ground would open and swallow him up. But suddenly Marco started to grin mischievously. "I love cheese cake", he uttered. And now the spell was broken, much to Erik’s relief.

"Come on, sit down", Marco stated, patting on the place right next to him. He watched Erik with a gaze full of curiosity as the younger one began to speak. "How are you doing?", he asked Marco.

"The foot is better than I thought. It hurts every now and then but it’s not that bad like it was in June. It’s more like in September", he sighed, thinking about the unbelievable misfortune he had in the last months.

"That’s good to hear but still sad", Erik regretted. "But how are _you_ doing?", he repeated his question. "What do you mean?", Marco replied confused. "I know what’s wrong with your leg and that it will hopefully heal in six weeks. But what about you, yourself. How are you feeling? Inside?"

Marco swallowed, taken by surprise. He had answered the question about his injury and his foot so many times in the last days, but rarely a few people wanted to know how he was dealing with it. He couldn’t respond and was even more surprised when Erik continued instead.

"Because I can tell you how _I_ feel", he said firmly, plucking up all his courage. "I miss you. Not only because our team is not the same when you are not on the pitch. I miss it to warm up with you before the matches, I miss your jokes in the locker room and I miss your laughter."

Marco was dumbfounded because he would have never ever expected this. "Thank you", he stammered.  
  
Just the moment he wanted to add something, Marcel’s voice sounded through the flat. "Hey, dude, where are you? Get up, I want to kick your precious little ass on Fifa!"

Marco sent Erik an apologizing gaze when Marcel stepped into the living room. "Uh, you’re not alone? Hi, I’m Marcel", he said hello to Erik. "I’m Erik". "Yeah, I know", Marcel grinned. "You’re the one on the pitch to pull his butt out of the fire if he loses the ball. I feel sympathy for you".  
  
Marco tried to slap him. "Shut up", he said embarrassed but Erik smiled. "It’s a pleasure for me. And it was a pleasure to meet you, but I’ll leave then." Marco seemed to be disappointed when he guided Erik to the door.  
  
"If I can do anything for you, just let me know", Erik murmured, "but I’m sure that you’re having a lot of support in Marcel, Robin, your parents and family, and Auba, Kevin or Nuri. Take care, Marco. We need you." In fact, what he said was indeed "We need you". But what he meant was: " _I_ need you."

"Thank you for your visit, Erik". Marco hugged him, stunned of the way the younger one got lost in the embrace for a second. Then he closed the door and hobbled back to Marcel.  
  
"Man, what the hell was that?", the latter asked. "I don’t know", Marco replied absent-mindedly, thinking about what has happened. "I really don’t know. But – do you want some cheese cake?"


	2. Confessions.

“Mmmmph!!!”, Marcel shouted about an hour later. “What did you want to say?”, Marco replied politely, “I’m glad you like the cake.” “I said, you’re not in the game today”, Marcel repeated after he had swallowed the last bite.

“Yeah, maybe I’m a little bit exhausted.” Marcel got the hint. As the good friend he was, he realized that Marco was churned up because of Erik’s visit.

“I’ll leave then, it’s late. Do you need anything else?” “No, thank you. I’ll call you.” “Good idea. And Marco?”, Marcel smiled. “Yeah?” “Thank Erik for the cake when you text him.” “I won’t text him!” “Oh yes, you’ll do.” “Fuck off!”, Marco shouted, throwing a cushion after Marcel. The latter made an elegant move to the side and winked before he left the flat.

Marco fell down on the couch again, massaging his foot. He propped it up on a cushion and switched the television on. Soon he noticed that he couldn’t follow the program and he started to zap from one channel to the other. But it was useless: In his mind he was somewhere else.

He sighed and switched the television off, throwing the remote control away. Erik’s words resonated in his mind. He was still struck by his frankness and stirred that Erik missed him. If he was honest to himself, Erik always had this special aura around him. A calm, warm aura; friendly but also …very, very attracting.

Marco’s heart had started to beat faster by the thought of his teammate. It was the first time he got aware that the other one maybe had a crush on him. But it wasn’t only Erik’s somewhat-confession that made him thoughtful.

In fact, he contemplated about Erik’s list of people who supported him. First his family. Surely his parents were always there for him and they were the first he called whenever something went wrong. They were able to hide their concerns and he could let himself go in their presence.

Same for his sisters and his little nephew. He was the one who could cheer him up the best because the fondness of the toddler did him good more than anything else. And his older sisters had always had the talent to tease and distract him.

Second, his teammates – well, most of them were already more than just colleagues. Mats was the wise man he could always come to and talk about serious things. Kevin was solid as a rock and Marco assumed that he would give everything he had for him, if it would be necessary.  
  
Just like Nuri who was always worried that his teammates were alright. Or Auba. They talked in a funny mix of English and German, but they didn’t need words to understand each other. Besides, his friends in the team knew the best what it felt like for a football professional to be side-lined because of an injury.  
  
Last but not least Marcel and Robin, friends and almost brothers since his childhood. Marco was sure that he could call them any time, any hour, and they would be standing right in front of him as soon as possible. He would never forget how they had taken care of him after all of his injuries.

But still.

It seems that there was a part inside of Marco, inside his soul, that could not be touched by anyone of them. Not by his family, not by his teammates or best friends.

“God damn, this fucking _cheese cake_ ”, Marco thought, actually not sure if he meant the cake or the bringer. He was not willing to open up this part of him once again. Not yet, not like this, wounded and hurt.

He sighed again, fighting with himself. Because, on the other hand, there was a burning hunger to close the gap he felt. And he had to find out if there was a person who could possibly bridge it.  
  
In the end, Marco grabbed his mobile, shaking his head about Marcel’s ability for the second sight.

He texted:

_“Hi Erik, thank you for your visit. The cake was delicious.”_

It took perceived one point five seconds for Erik to respond as if he had waited for a message with his smartphone in his hands.

_“That’s good to hear. I’m sorry that I dropped in so unexpectedly.”_

_“Don’t be. I’m always happy about visitors.”_ (“Especially when their name is Erik”, he thought).

_“So did you win on Fifa?”_

_“No, Marcel was better.”_

_“Damn. Maybe you’ll win next time.”_

_“I’ll try my best. :) Apropos next time: I’ll owe you an answer to your question.”_

_“You don’t. I went way too far. I didn’t want to offend you.”_

_“Be sure you didn’t. But your plate is still here. Do you want to pick it up tomorrow?”_

_“Is this an invitation? :)”_  
  
 _“Looks like :)”_

_“Yeah, I’ll come over. Expectedly, this time.. :)”_

“ _Cool! And if you have some pieces of this fantastic cheese cake left…”_

_“I got it. :D”_

_“See you tomorrow after training?”_

_“You can count on me.”_

And probably that was the point.  
  
Marco was missing that one person who united all the good qualities. The caring affection of his family, the understanding support of his teammates, the absolute loyalty of his friends.

Plus the unconditional love only a significant other could give.

Only _Erik_ could give.


	3. Clarity.

This night, Marco thought a lot about Erik’s question – and about Erik himself. He watched the match against Paderborn again, trying to come over the situation by facing the moment he got injured.

Only now he noticed that Erik was the one who had caressed him, who had stroked over his head in the desperate attempt to console him while he was lying on the ground in pain.

And he was longing for Erik’s touch again.

***

"Come in", Marco welcomed Erik when he arrived the next day after training, an even huger plate in his hands. He grinned when he presented it to Marco. "Cheese cake, anyone?"

Marco laughed. "Do you want to feed a whole company? Marcel won’t be here today. It’s just you and me." Erik smiled from ear to ear. "But I wanted to give you a treat."

Marco already felt Erik’s warm aura again. The boy’s presence had something soothing to him. "Do you like a tea?" "Yeah, good idea. It’s cold outside." Marco shook his head in disbelief. A cake, a cup of tea – and Erik. So cheesy and yet so simple and good.

"Let me help you", Erik murmured suddenly. Marco hadn’t noticed that he had joined him in the kitchen. For a short second, their hands touched when Marco handed Erik the cups. Marco couldn’t help but started to smile.

They took a seat on Marco’s couch again, eating the cheese cake and warming their hands on the cups. This time, it was Marco who spoke frankly.

"I want to reply to your question. You asked me how I feel… It’s difficult to explain."

Erik looked at him calmly, spreading assurance and interest. And so Marco carried on.

"You know that I’m not the one who’s not accepting his fate. I’m always looking forward because that’s the only thing that helps and counts."

He made a pause and his eyes met Erik’s. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was that he saw in him. But he was sure that the moment to talk everything off his chest was right here, right now, with _him_.

"I still have nightmares. About my first injury, about the moment the doctors told me the truth. I will probably never get the chance to be a World Champion again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m strong most of the time but there are moments it is too much. Especially when you are injured over and over again. I’m sick and tired of pain, crutches and watching matches from the stands. Each injury reminds me that I missed the World Cup. It’s like a continuous loop of comebacks and throwbacks."

Erik had carefully moved closer to Marco. "I wish I could do something for you", he whispered. "You can. You’re listening to me." "Because I want you to be okay."

And now Marco finally had the courage to confess it. "I am not okay at the moment. I’m not, Erik." He stood up and limped over to the window, staring outside, trying to swallow down his tears.

Erik followed, standing right next to him. "But you will be." "Yes, I will. I swear."

A tear ran down Marco’s cheek. It was the first time he cried after they had brought him to the hospital the day before he should have been on the plane to Brazil.

At first he was ashamed to show his emotions to Erik but then he was relieved. Even more, when he felt a soft, feathery touch on his cheek.

He smiled and faced Erik. And his inner demons vanished together with the salty taste of his tears as he kissed him.

After this day, after spending the first of many nights to come in Erik's arms, he never had a bad dream about his injury again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go. I'm still powerless because of BVB's performance that weighs heavy on my heart as well as Marco's bad luck this year. I'm thankful for everybody who's writing sweet Durmeus-fluff here like I tried. I'm not satisfied with this one but I will come back. How can I not.


End file.
